This morning was pretty much the first morning in two weeks that I didn't seriously consider pulling the trigger on Plan B.

I can't disclose the details of Plan B but I can tell you that it involves cashing in a CD, a phone call to my friend Jamie, two plane tickets and a t-shirt stand in Key West named Hannah and Jamie's T-Shirt Stand.

Ok, that's pretty much all the details.

It started like any other morning - I woke up and Ellie's diaper had exploded. For those with children, you know exactly what I'm talking about. For those without, please allow me to explain. If a diaper becomes over saturated with liquid (in this case, urine) the diaper bursts open and a gelatinous crystal-like muck covers everything within a 2-mile radius.

I would consider this to be an important detail which was omitted from the baby class. Seriously - anything that would lead a person of average intelligence to believe that their baby was abducted by an alien life form in the night and returned just before dawn should probably be disclosed.

Anyhoo, the gelatinous muck is standard operating procedure these days and this morning the minute I walked in and discovered it was about the time Lila woke up screaming her balls off. Which was like a love song to my boobs who answered back with their own lovely lyrics in liquid form.

Which meant that Ellie got her a nice trucker bath there on the changing table with wet wipes and Oust. I had to run downstairs and get Ole Pumpy, which I still have to use because the crack in my nipple still looks like Jimmy Walker's mouth and every once in a while when I take off my bra it will yell "Dyno-MITE!".

So within 5 minutes of waking up Ellie was in her playpen smelling like urine and Oust, Lila was still screaming her balls off in the bassinet and I was sitting in the rocker mentally willing my boobs to hurry up and please for the love of god pump faster.

I finished and went to pick Lila up and realized that she too was covered in urine. I thought her head was going to explode from all of the screaming so I decided to feed her first. When I came back in the room with a new outfit I thought she had milk coming out of her nose but then I realized she had actually just spit up the majority of the milk I spent the last 10 minutes extracting from myself and her hair and upper torso were soaked. Which was ok because so was her bottom half.

Totally covered in fluids requires an actual bath. Immediately. Which was all for naught because soon after the bath she peed through her diaper onto her onesie and my lap.

So within one hour I had been covered in gelatinous muck, throw up and three rounds of pee. Both girls got baths and two outfit changes and yet here I sit... still smelling like ass.

I could go on and on... Ellie spent the morning playing "avalanche" (a cute little game where she throws every single one of her toys and books onto the ground), Lila had a huge poop blowout while I was on the phone with our investment guy, I left the referigerator door open and all the beer (and oh yeah milk and other stuff) got warm... but you get the gist. It was a hectic morning.

My point in telling you all this is that I think I have finally succumbed to the fact that this is my life. Not once during the entire morning did I freak out or mentally berate myself for my procreative life choices. It was almost as if I had been doing this forever.

Maybe when you don't expect to get through a morning NOT covered in bodily fluids then you won't be disappointed.